The Proxy
by SupernaturalFanatic19
Summary: Shell is the Tall One's best proxy. When he sends her out on a mission, she fails and gets captured by police and thrown into an asylum. Go five years into the future. With no memories except her name, what is she supposed to do when she is busted out of the asylum by a man named HABIT? Based off the rp between a friend and I. Completely AU, but with TribeTwelve's Slenderman.


**The Proxy**

**Summary: **Shell is the Tall One's best proxy. When he sends her out on a mission, she fails and gets captured by police and thrown into an asylum. Go five years into the future. With no memories except her name, what is she supposed to do when she is busted out of the asylum by a man named HABIT? Based off the rp between a friend and I. Completely AU, but with TribeTwelve's Slenderman.

_**Chapter 1**_

A young woman of twenty-years old walked down the long hallway of the mansion that she and others called 'home'. Proxies, servants and slaves of the Tall One, Slenderman, the Keeper, he had all sorts of names. He was the one who would make you a deal: in exchange for doing what you asked of him, you would have to become a proxy.

Only a handful of the Keeper's proxies were the best of the best, including the Collective. The Collective were a higher group that served the Keeper and often stayed on a different plane than the proxies themselves.

The young woman had long, dark brown hair that reached her thighs and hazel eyes. She wore her Proxy outfit, dark faded jeans with a black shirt and a zipped up hoodie over it and knee high boots. She preferred to use a knife in her missions.

"Ah...Miss Hartford." The Tall One greeted as his beloved Proxy approached him in his office. "I am pleased with your punctuality."

"As always, master." Shell gave a respectful bow to him. The Operator symbol was clearly evident on her left shoulder, due to the jacket she wore.

"I have a task for you." He said, gripping her shoulder and leading her along in a walk.

"What is it, master?" She asked, glancing up at him through her dark locks.

"I need someone 'taken care of'." He purred, using his code word for the brainwashed female.

A wide grin spread across her pale face. 'Taking care of' someone was her specialty. "Yes Master. Where do they live?"

"Not far...down the road from our old mansion. Kill him."

"As you wish, master." Shell gave him another bow and put her hood up, grinning as she went for her mission. It didn't take her long to find the house that her victim lived in. The lights were all off, which meant her target was asleep, most likely in the master bedroom. It was a two story home, but she wouldn't have any trouble climbing.

Shell easily found the window to the master bedroom and climbed up using the pipe beside the window. She grabbed onto the window ledge and pulled herself up, opening the window slowly. She heard the snoring of her target coming from the bed. She climbed inside and shut the window once she was in, bringing out her dagger as she approached the sleeping form.

One stab to the heart and it would all be over.

Her target stirred on his bed slowly, his eyes opening. When he saw her, his eyes went wide with panic and he began to yell. Shell pounced on the man, covering his mouth with her free hand. He struggled underneath her, making muffled, desperate and frightened noises. "Shh...it'll all be over in just a few moments." She grinned sadistically and began to bring the dagger down for the killing blow.

The man screamed and jammed his hand into her gut, causing her to grunt. When she recovered, he kicked her off and let her hit the wall. He got up and ran out of the bedroom, running down the hallway. "HELP, HELP! POLICE!"

Shell growled and got up, running after him. She was faster than the man and chased him all the way downstairs and to the front door until it burst open and police officers began to flood into the room, surrounding Shell and guns pointing at her. "DROP YOUR WEAPON!"

Shell stopped in her tracks, face set in a snarl. She looked around for an escape route and saw a nearby window. She ducked down and sliced at an officer's leg, causing him to collapse to the ground. She did a backwards summer salt and bolted for the window.

They fired their guns at her, most of the bullets missing her. Then, one pierced her leg, causing her to hit the floor with a yell and thud. In seconds, officers had her hands cuffed behind her back and were telling Shell her rights.

Things went by swiftly after that. She was held in a cell, then put on trial, and labeled criminally insane. They had her tossed into an asylum on heavy guard and heavy medication. Shell tried to call for her master, but it was no use. She couldn't contact the faceless one under heavy medication. She was the violent one, always kept in a dark, padded cell in a straightjacket with nothing but silence to keep her company.

The Silence was always the worst. It drove her even more insane than before and she ended up becoming even more violent, to the point where she had murdered another patient by ripping their throat out with her teeth.

When this happened, she was thrown into a very small cell in the darkest part of the asylum, where she lost track of time. Soon...she was kept there for five, very long years. She even forgot almost everything but her name.

Shell was reduced to nothing but a long lost memory in the asylum, only needing food, water and showering when she needed it. She became quiet, mute, never to speak even when her own doctor spoke to her.

"...Miss Hartford, are you listening?" Her doctor waved a hand in front of her face.

Shell blinked and realized she had spaced out, again. She glanced over at him and nodded.

"I don't understand why you can't speak to me...I've been your therapist for two years..." He shook his head.

The last therapist she had pissed her off and she had stabbed him in the face with his own pen. Let's just say he retired and never wanted to work in an asylum again. Shell glanced away from her therapist and grabbed a pencil and paper. She would use that to communicate. 'Because what's the point of speaking out loud? No one listens to me. I don't even know why I'm in this place...' She wrote.

Her therapist looked at her. He eyed the symbol on her left shoulder, a circle with an X through it. He had even looked it up and had gotten hundreds of results. The symbol was called the Operator Symbol, belonging to a faceless creature called Slenderman. Der Ritter, the Operator, he had many names. Shell could've thought the symbol looked cool and decided to get a tattoo of it, but of course, she had forgotten.

It had been all the drugs they doped her up with.

"I wish you would speak to me Shell..." He said softly before getting up and squeezing her shoulder affectionately.

After their session, Shell was taken back to her cell and locked inside, kept in the darkness. The only light she had was from the slithers of moonlight that came through the small window at the very top of her cell. She sighed and slowly laid down, closing her eyes. She hardly ever slept, but that's all she did.

Was sleep.

It was a while later when she heard some shuffling in her cell and a hand pulling at her straight jacket. "Feh, like someone could keep me in these fucking things. Oi, Shelly-baby, you alright?" Another hand patted her cheek gently.

Shell slowly opened her eyes, a sickly and drugged look to them. She saw a man in front of her, face close to hers. The man looked in his twenties, with longish dark hair and wearing a black cap. His clothes were dark, but from what she could see, his shirt was a short sleeve.

"Damn, they fucked you up majorly huh?" The man mumbled and she heard a sheathing sound. Next thing she knew, the mysterious stranger cut her out from the straight jacket.

Her arms were incredibly sore from being in the straight jacket for so long. "C'mon Shell, let's get your ass out of here." He said and grabbed her arm, hauling her up. He got her situated on his back and she blinked. When she blinked, they weren't in the room anymore. They were in the woods.

"Where...?" She mumbled.

"You'll be staying with me until you get your memories back." the man replied, slowly walking through the forest.

The girl mumbled again, before she fell asleep with her head against his shoulder. Habit gave a soft sigh and continued walking through the forest to meet someone who was waiting for him. He saw the shadowed silhouette of a tall man, muscular and wearing dark clothing. He was leaning against a tree, pinhole eyes staring out into the distance.

"I got her Brandy." Habit spoke to the shadowed man.

Firebrand glanced over at them, seeing the unconscious female on Habit's back. "Good, now let's get her to the cabin. She'll need plenty of rest, especially if she is going to start remembering her memories. I am positive those will take a long while to come back."

Habit nodded in agreement. "And all we gotta do is keep her away from the tall fuck at all costs."

The taller man nodded. "Let's get going to the cabin. We have a lot to do."


End file.
